Catching the Dew

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time

like dew on the tip of a leaf.

                               --Rabindranath Tagore

I keep several strawberry plants, 

but not because of any illusions that our few plants hiding half in the shade

and crowded by a gangling stevia plant and some rosemary

will ever produce a large crop of sweet, juicy berries.

No, they are planted because they remind us of family.

My husband's mother always grew strawberries when he was a boy,

as did my parents and grandparents.

I harvested some herbs yesterday morning before the heat set in

and the chirring of insects still filled the air.

And I saw something I had never seen before, 

and it was stunning in its simplicity.

The fringed edges of the strawberry leaves 

held clear and perfect drops of dew:

Perhaps this is the origin of the candlewick pattern.

Regardless, it is amazing what a little dew can do.

Of course, Gibran said it more eloquently:

For in the dew of little things 

the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

A nice thought for greeting a summer Sunday.

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